


Tord Forgets Other People Have Feelings

by LoneBone



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, How Do I Tag, M/M, One Night Stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:35:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29543862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoneBone/pseuds/LoneBone
Summary: Tord forgets that emotions exist for a hot sec
Relationships: Tom/Tord (Eddsworld)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 24





	Tord Forgets Other People Have Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've written something on my own in 5 years please understand-   
> Give your opinions and suggestions for more ideas in the comments

Red Leader buttoned his pants and buckled his belt, sweat dripping down his toned back from the nape of his neck. He picked up his blood red sweater from the bedpost, hastily placing it back onto his scarred torso along with his navy blue army coat. His golden name tag gleamed and was illuminated by the bedside lamp. The Norsk managed to return his labored breathing back to normal quite easily, considering this was a regular occurence. That, and all the exercising he does comes in handy. He looked as if nothing had just happened, the only reminder being the sweat coating his forehead and his dampened hair. A cold gray eye shifted back at the mess of tossed sheets, bodily fluids and a disheveled man basking in the afterglow of their previous session. 

Thomas was tired, among many other things. Satisfied, sore, and messy all over. A complete wreck. He was panting like a dog left out in the sun, waiting for his owner outside of a store. His visor had been placed on the desk beside his bed, showing off his scarred black eyes. The man was decorated in his leader's fluids, along with bruises and bite marks that looked nasty enough to last months. His neck was surrounded by purple blotches and his lip was busted and still bleeding, something that he dark-eyed male thought was something to wear with pride. Though from an outside perspective, many others had the thought that their leader was just showing his body guard some good old fashioned discipline. Giving him a beating here and there to keep Thomas in line.

Why else would it seem Thomas was bloody and bruised this way? Red Leader was known to be an aggressive man with a short temper, there was nothing keeping him from doing whatever he pleased with his soldiers.

It took him a few seconds to regain his composure, but Thomas managed to sit up in his own bed. Weight shifted the mattress, creaking from old springs and years of use. They probably should have replaced it by now, but they had better things to do with the time they had on their hands. The soldier hurried to find and put his boxers to somewhat save what was left of his dignity once again.

If he had any at all at this point. 

He glanced over to his leader, who promptly shifted his single working eye to the door once he was taken notice of. Of course, avoiding the reality of what had happened again. As it would play out, it would only be moments before he was asked the same question he was always asked after these recurring midnight sessions. Like an unwanted routine that got more annoying and exhausting each time. It weighed more than his metal arm resting upon the right side of his scarred body.

"Could you stay, my leader? Just a bit longer?"

The question never ceases to paralyze Red Leader. The Norski wasn't supposed to enter his soldiers quarters anytime after ten at night, let alone have intimate privacy like this without the presence of one of his right hand men. He often ignored this question and left without another word, but that seemed to give Thomas hope alone that the answer would be different next time. Because there was always a next time. That his longing question would be met with an answer that would give the man any sign of positive reinforcement that what they were doing was something more than what reality told him it was.

It wasn't just a fling, it couldn't have been.

Something in Thomas's voice sounded strained, almost as if it was a small, desperate cry for warmth in the cold. Pain was embedded, along with sadness and longing. Small, and easily breakable. He could feel the reply that was to come in the pit of his stomach each time, although anticipation never met an answer. The steel-like coldness was always met with the same empty room and the click of a doorknob to end the night. Then Thomas would promptly sit awake for about two hours wondering what the hell was wrong about this situation that made him feel so bad in the end.

His leader let out a heavy hearted sigh, raking his hand through his sweaty caramel colored hair. He didn't approve of how it felt like time spanned a few years before he finally decided to do something about this small issue at hand. It was now or never that Red would give the answer to Thomas' lingering question. What use was leading on the poor man? He should cut this off before anything else gets in the way of Red's more important duties as a leader of a revolutionary army. Feelings were an obstacle that had to be taken down. No matter what could have been, or what was left of a much less bitter time years ago. 

"No, Thomas." He firmly stated. The words felt so simple and easy, why had he avoided answering his soldiers question in the first place? To spare a bit of feelings that were left over from forever ago? Not like anything there was salvageable anymore anyways. The Red Leader threw that away along with any other feeling than anger, malice, and pride. At least, that's what he told himself everyday he had to look his favorite soldier in the eyes without any other feeling than superiority. "You know how this goes. I'm not even supposed to be here, let alone at this time of night. I do not care to let myself be caught up in such trivial things like sleeping in another soldier's quarters- You know this Thomas. You're just another soldier that happens to help me with some unconventional tasks on the side of your original duties. You're a soldier, a weapon. Nothing more, nothing less. And I don't plan on having you think that this is anything more than what it is."

Silence filled the air once more. The uncomfortable silence that had to be thick enough to cut with a simple dull knife. It was almost worse of a feeling than getting shot, for both men involved.

Thomas didn't know what his first reaction would have been, but it seemed shock overtook him first. The words, although what he had expected, stacked upon the Brit like a pile of bricks. Mentally, reality had punched him in the gut violently. Physically, all he could do was sit and stare at the Norski before him. His fists clenched up with anger- and the smallest bit of anguish? He felt hot tears swell up in his eyes and his face turn warm, but he couldn't let them fall. He refused to let them fall. This was pathetic of him to feel any emotion for the man before him anymore. 

Thomas had been through rigorous training that could make any grown man cry out in frustration. He had been tortured for the sake of being an extreme bio weapon, experimented on without remorse and no sight of any relief from the pain. He had been put through brutal beatings of obedience from the higher ups in this god forsaken army, and never once shed a tear. Never once had he cried out in frustration, anger, or even sadness of the situations he had been through. So why all of a sudden was this the thing to ruin is composure? Why cry over something as minuscule as a one night stand? Although the one night stand was a recurring incident at this point.

Silly Thomas knew why he was acting like a kicked puppy now. No matter how much his Leader would put him through, there was always hope that the Tord he once knew well was still there. That Tord was just pulling him through a few stupid tests and tribulations. The once loving man that would smile and joke with his friends, a warm and gentle guy on the inside of his rough, and sometimes unbearable exterior. The man that loved his friends and loved his boyfriend even more. The Tord who would have sacrificed anything to be with the Brit. 

Well, anything but his plans for world domination.

"So that's it? You're just gonna leave me here like you always do?" The Norwegian turned to face Thomas this time, but the soldier was met with silence. He was fucking tired of it. The nothing that was to come. The silence was the last straw. He glared at the blur of a man before him with such raw emotion. 

"This isn't fair! It's not fair for me." He paused, tears of what he would like to just think is frustration welling up in his eyes. Thomas clenched his fists and felt his burning blood run through him. He sat on the edge of his bed, feet touching the cold floor. He didn't know if it was the temperature or his pent up emotions making him shiver. 

Red Leader's eyebrows raised, an unamused look across his face. He didn't understand the emotion anymore when he looked at Thomas. The feeling that he once knew all too well was now just a foreign construct of his mind. He couldn't tell what he was feeling anymore. Other than the fact he knew he didn't like feeling the way he did when his eyes caught the Brit in tears. It was annoying on his part. 

"I don't care that I'm your damn soldier, you shouldn't just use me like this. It was stupid of me to even agree to these arrangements in the first place! I don't know what I was thinking when I agreed to this. Maybe it was the part in me wishing Tord was back. That he actually still had some sort of feeling left for me. But obviously, this doesn't mean anything more to you than it would have with anyone else, right? So you know what? You're the leader of a whole damn army of men and women, go fuck around with someone else. I'm just a number to you, a meaningless fling. So I'm done." 

Red Leader hasn't heard his name in years, let alone it be from his old friend. It was beyond disrespectful for anyone beneath him to do so. And seeing as he was the most powerful man in war and status, no one would dare utter his name even if they knew it. Disrespecting the Red Leader is a death sentence. Someone as lowly as a soldier knows that.

And yet, Red didn't feel like punishing Thomas for his outburst. It was almost expected. No one would dare talk to Red like that, of course it would be his old friend to do so after so many years. And what could only be described as someone grabbing his heart and squeezing it tight had been left instead of the sensation of anger inside him. He wasn't mad, but he had to remind Thomas of what he had done. No punishment. Because it wasn't the use of foul language or the use of his name that had Red Leader feeling this way. Maybe if Thomas hadn't said his name with such spite, it would have been nice to hear after all these years.

"Thomas, thank you for sharing your thoughts to me. But I expect more respect than that, especially from you." Quite hypocritical coming from him, considering he didn't respect his soldier enough to take his feelings into consideration. Though what were feelings for if you thought you didn't need them? "You are to address me as your leader. Never say that name, soldier. Am I understood?"

No answer.

"Thomas, answer your leader."

The expression on his soldier's face reminded him of Tom. The Tom he remembered years ago when he first left for the army, or as he put it, "the big city". The emotionally distraught face flushed red with anger, and a few tears running down his face. His dark voids for eyes, even though now scarred over, held so much emotional turmoil. Tord back then knew that he shouldn't push Tom to speak in that state. He'd break down violently sobbing if he did. Back then, Tom was never good at hiding his feelings, let alone keeping from acting on them. It would have hurt Tord to see Tom in such a state right now.

But this wasn't back then. Thomas was here and now, and the past him gave no excuse to how he is behaving now. 

"Thomas, your blatant disrespect will not go unpunished if you do not answer me."

" Please, just- just leave me the hell alone."

Red didn't really expect for Thomas to do what he did right before him. He thought that years of being in the army would have done something to his soft heart. Just hardened it a little. But no. Here was one of his surprisingly strongest soldiers, letting suppressed sobs rack through his body violently. And for some reason Red Leader still couldn't wrap his head around, he hated hearing what he would consider his favorite soldier cry. He had broken his spirits way before this, but this felt different. Almost wrong. Maybe his wrongdoings have finally caught up to him? No, any other person caught crying in this situation would catch heavy backlash from him.

Without finding a way to respond, the Leader simply stood there like an idiot. He didn't know what he felt more, guilt- or even awkwardness? He was waiting for his brain to come up with an automatic response, or something that sounded like a good enough response to give Thomas.

But nothing came up.

Red let out a groan and rolled his good eye, sitting on the edge of the foot of his soldier's bed. Thomas tried to compress his crying, his shoulders jerking every once in a while while stifling his sobs into pathetic sniffles. His head was bowed down, not daring to meet the gaze of his leader, especially as he was being so emotionally vulnerable at this time. 

"... Quit your crying Tom. It's very unprofessional, you know."

It took time to process what the communists had said, especially since he was preoccupied with his emotions finally being let loose. The tone was soft, almost empathetic. And the way he said his name had his heart jump in his throat. He hasn't been called Tom since around the same time Red Leader had last been called Tord. Well- before the man had said it tonight, with such emotional anguish and all. If he were any more stupid than he probably already was, he would have mistaken the tone for warm and even loving as it once used to be. The moment that registered in his mind, Thomas quickly shot his head up to look at his Leader. His scarred, teary black eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape in subtle surprise. 

Red Leader didn't know why he said his words in that way. He didn't know why he even referred to Thomas by his condensed and more preferred name. It was a small slip up of him to show emotional vulnerability. He knew that by the way his soldier was staring at him, that he could tell he had messed up somewhere too. 

"I- well I have to second guess myself and say that I have been quite unfair with you. I do tend to treat you differently than I do the other soldiers. I can see that I'm putting you under stress that shouldn't be put onto your shoulders, you already have so much to do as it is. You've got regular training on top of your weapon training, not to mention the trials of the ongoing experiment. And who knows how long that'll be- The last thing you need is a complicated relationship with your leader. I offer you my sincerest apologies." 

And just like that, Red was caught off guard by a weak chuckle coming from the man before him. Although everything was mixed up before him due to his fucked eyesight, Thomas could still make out the blur of colors before him. "Oh come on, commie. We've been fucking for months behind closed doors and yet you still have that formal stick up your ass. The least you can do is be less insufferable and talk normal," Thomas stated with a sarcastic, sad smile. Though he could barely see around him, he looked to the glowing light of his alarm clock. He didn't feel like looking at Red right now. Watching him leave might make him break down again-

God, was he always this sensitive?

As much as Red Leader wanted to keep up his act, he knew Tom was right. What point was there in keeping formalities if they already have been inappropriate and informal with each other for so long without the eyes of others judging them? What bad could come from dropping his tough Leader act for a while, if just for a small time span of a few hours during the night and the alone time he had during the experiments with Tom? He gave a sigh through his nose and took a glance at the clock on Tom's night stand. It was almost ten thirty at night already. His quarters were all the way on the other side of the base, and he was quite frankly emotionally exhausted with how he finally managed to trigger buried feelings for the first time in years and didn't want to use his legs any longer. 

Red suddenly took off his boots, along with his coat. The sound of the fabric hitting the hardwood floor instead of heavy steps and the closing of the door forced Tom to look back to his leader in curiosity. The norsk man kicked those items to the corner of Tom's room, colliding with a dirty pile of the Brits worn uniforms. The uniforms that the leader took lots of time into designing just for his soldier. No one else had the honor of having something specifically made for them by the Red Leader with such consideration. 

"Lay down and make room, Jehovah's witness. I've got to wake up earlier than usual if I wanna get back to my quarters in the morning without others seeing."


End file.
